I Call Him Sammy
by lenkenobi583
Summary: Alternative Universe. Sam and Dean are not brothers. Sammy Harvelle meets a hunter named Dean Winchester who is looking for his father. Dean and Sam have a past. Both are hunters and may even have a future...together.
1. Sam and the Mysterious Man

I Call Him Sammy

Summary: Alternative Universe. Sam and Dean are not brothers but in the world they live in they still know about the supernatural and hunters. They have a history together and maybe even a different kind of relationship. Mild slash.

Samuel Benjamin Harvelle smirked at the hunter in the corner currently staring him down. The guy looked the usual rugged type he saw at the Roadhouse owned by his mother. Their bar was special, it attracted a different cliental than most bars. The Roadhouse was a safe haven for hunters of the supernatural. The hunters impressed him most of the time but from time to time he met a real jerk. Sam was used to random jerks coming on to him, both male and female hunters. This guy was clearly one of those jerks. It was obvious by the man was staring at him.

"Sam?"

Sam reluctantly broke his gaze with the stranger and turned his attention to his mother, Ellen Harvelle. Ellen was a brave woman, raising her son alone after the death of her husband and hunter William Harvelle. Sam loved his mother but sometimes he wanted more than working in a bar for the rest of his life.

"Yes, mother?" he respectfully responded.

"I don't pay you to ogle the pretty boys, Sam."

He felt a bright blush take over his cheeks as his mom mentioned his preference out loud. He had only told her less than six months ago that he was gay. He had expected disappointment even shame but his mother was accepting like most people who were hunters or related to hunters.

"So get back to work." She finished, crossing her arms to appear angry but had a grin painted on her face. She walked away from the bar and over to the table where the man staring him down was sitting.

Sam sighed and made his way to the bar to take over for his mother. He carefully watched them talk and spilled at least two drinks in the progress. He had to force himself to not spy on his mother. He knew she kept secrets from him, she always had. Sometimes Sam wished she'd kept some things secrets to herself like ghosts. He could have lived without knowing any of that.

"Hey, Sam! Give me one of them fancy drinks you're always making when no one is watching!"

Sam growled and muttered obscenities under his breath. Ash, the resident know-it-all at Roadhouse was such a pain in the ass.

"That's what he learned to do at fancy pants school." Sam heard Ash tell his bar partner who happened to look like a hooker. Another pain in the ass called Sheila. Her giggle sounded more like a pig squealing to him. Truth was after high school Sam had gone to college with a full-ride. With little money for school he learned to bar tend. He already knew how to some extent but he learned a lot about what other people in the world drink. He always thought as alcohol as a way to relieve pressure. In the outside world people drank for pleasure something he'd never understand. He didn't fit in there. Maybe he'd never fit in anywhere except here. Suddenly, yelling drew his attention.

"Hell no!"

Sam looked away for the person he was serving and towards his mother. She and the man who was maybe about four years older than him were standing up. Ellen and he were about the same height so the yelling match was face to face.

"Ellen, you got to help me!"

"Really now?"

"You owe me."

"I owe you. After all the heartache you and that bastard father of yours caused our family."

"This isn't about my father. You owe me."

"Get the hell out of here!"

Before Sam knew it he was at the table pushing the man away from his mother.

"I think my mother told you to get the hell out of here." He said sharply.

The man looked at him. His expression was blank almost stoic but if Sam didn't know any better he could've swore he looked hurt. The man simply nodded before saying, "Whatever you say Sammy."

_Sammy. _

The man turned to face the bar where a couple of hunters stood with their guns locked and loaded.

"There's no need for bloodshed. We're just some old friends talking and having a bit of a misunderstanding."

The hunters continued to aim until the man was out of the Roadhouse. Well, it was nice to know that people were looking out for him and his mother.

"Mom, what was that about?" Sam whispered as the noise of the bar returned to normal.

"Nothing, Sam. Nothing that concerns you." The coldness in her voice was real this time. She walked away and returned to the crowded bar. Sam stood silently.

_Whatever you say Sammy. _

Sam thought about what the man had said. He sounded so familiar. He scanned over his memory of the man briefly trying to recall any small detail. His jacket was worn and ugly, faded jeans, torn up shoes nothing out of the ordinary. Then Sam felt this stomach drop as he realized who the man was. How he didn't recognize him he didn't know.

"Dean."

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this fic. Please comment with suggestion or a simple, "I like it." I personally stuggle a lot with P.O.V so any tips or hints would be appreciated. Thanks again!


	2. Sam and Dean's Past: First Meeting

I Call Him Sammy

Summary: Alternative Universe. Mild slash. Also some dates and events are altered.

_Sammy. _

It was winter 1993, a particularly tough winter for the Harvelle family. Sam's dad had been on a hunt for about four months and the 10 year old was getting anxious. The Roadhouse was quiet with only a few lingering guests. It was always quiet this close to Christmas. Hunters that had families were making their way home and those who didn't continued to do what they do best, hunt. Sam sat silently on a bar stool staring at the door. He often did it when he father was away. He wanted to be the first to see him return home. His attention tonight was distracted by the man and child sitting at the table nearest the doorway. Well, he was a child this kid was probably around 13 or 14. It was strange to see a hunter bringing their kid along. In fact he'd never seen a hunter with a child. Sam let out a gasp as strong arms came from behind him and picked him up off the stool. He wiggled his way around to put his arms around his father's neck.

"Daddy!"

Sam was a shy child except when he got to see his father. He could care less what anyone thought of him. He pulled away from the hug and looked at his father. He looked tired but still wore a smile. Sam reached his hand to his father to trace a deep cut that was already scabbing.

"Dad, you're hurt. "

"It's nothing, Sammy."

His father chased away all his fears by tickling him.

"Dad stop!" Sam yelled, crying with laughter.

"What all this ruckus about?"

Sam felt his smile grow even more when he heard his mother enter the room. He and his father didn't speak a word. They stood there staring at Ellen, letting her take in the sight of her husband.

"William." She sighed under her breath. The quiet and reserved woman ran to her husband throwing herself in his arms. She was crying, why Sam didn't know.

"Ellen, it's alright dearest. I'm safe." His father reassured her. "I'm home."

Ten year old Sam wouldn't learn the details of that hunt of any other for at least another twelve years. He didn't know his father had been hunting a demon and barely made it out alive. The next couple of days continued to be quiet. While his mother and father were spending time together Sam got to watch the bar at night. Most of the hunters here, he knew by name. All accept the father and son duo. Sam badly wanted to talk to the teenage hunter. Wanted to know what life was for him. Maybe he understood the constant worry and fear that Sam had every time his father left. Sam wouldn't have to wait long. That night the father left his son with only a few quick words. After a couple of hours of sitting all alone the teenager made his way to the bar.

"Hey, kid." He said with a cocky grin painted on his face.

"My name isn't kid." Sam replied.

"My mistake."

They sat in silence as Sam cleaned out dirty glasses till Sam finally gave in.

"My name is Sam. Sam Harvelle." He offered.

The teenager continued to smile smugly, "Sammy, huh? Cute name."

Sam felt a blush creep up his cheeks that felt like anger. No one called him Sammy but his father. He was only trying to be nice to the son of a hunter; he didn't plan on getting made fun of. So Sam continued washing hoping the teenager would give his name or get the hell away.

"Dean." He finally replied. "Dean Winchester."

"Dean." Sam felt himself whisper quietly but not obvious not quietly enough because Dean piped up with a smart ass, "Yes?"

"Nothing." Sam muttered as he started wiping down the bar. The two sat in an awkward silence as one by one each hunter left. Sam could see the impatience and worry written on Dean's face. He had to admit to a normal person he looked blank but Sam could tell he was thinking of his father.

"Sam."

Sam turned around to see his mother entering the front door and locking it up.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Dean's father called. He'll be spending the night with us."

Sam looked at Dean just in time to catch a moment of anger and disappointment in his soft green eyes. Sam nodded and hopped off the bar stool he was sitting on.

"Follow me." He ordered.

Dean slouched in defeat and picked up his bag. They left the bar with Ellen and made their way down a dirt road which led to a beautiful cottage. The small house couldn't be more than two or three rooms. Once inside Sam sighed at the warm feeling of his tiny home. With a mother and a father he couldn't ask for more than the life he had.

"Nice place." He heard Dean muttered.

"Thanks." Sam replied. His home was nice or at least he thought so.

He led Dean to his room. The teenager was exhausted; Sam noticed he couldn't even walk completely straight.

"You can have my bed." Sam offered gently.

Dean simply nodded and without protest collapsed onto the small twin bed. As Sam quietly set up his makeshift bed he thought about waking the boy. Someone always looked under his bed before he went to sleep. His father or mother did it every night. Since he first understood that ghosts and things that go bump in the night were real, he had someone check.

"Dean."

The boy was not only asleep but snoring…loudly. Sam sighed and decided to check himself. He'd never get any sleep if he didn't. He reluctantly got on his knees and started to bend down. His hands touched the floor as he looked under. He only had time to do one thing, scream.

--

Thank you for reading! Please review. I really take into account people's suggestions. Writers know how great it feels to get any review no matter how short or long.


	3. Sam and Dean's Past: Search for Sammy

I Call Him Sammy

Summary: Alternative Universe. Sam and Dean are not brothers but in the world they live in they still know about the supernatural and hunters. They have a history together and maybe even a different kind of relationship. Mild slash.

Dean immediately awoke to the scream of the little boy he'd met earlier. He grabbed his bag and pulled his out his gun. The small room was empty. He looked to the right and left of him but Sammy was gone. He climbed off the bed and nearly tripped on something, mostly likely one of the kid's toys. He looked down and wished he would see a football or bat but he knew he was looking at Sam Harvelle's shoe. Suddenly, the door bust open, Ellen and William both armed.

"Dean?" she whispered lowering her firearm. She looked around for her son, "Where's Sam?"

"I-I…" Dean stuttered, that worried him. He always knew what to say to grownups especially when it came to people like him who understood the supernatural. Truth was he didn't know what to say. If it was a ghost he knew the chances of getting Sam back were high but if it was human, he'd probably never see Sammy again.

"I don't know."

"Dammit Dean! Where is he?" Ellen grabbed the fourteen year old by the shoulders. "Did you hear someone come in? Was there an intense cold? You're supposed to be a hunter, Dean! Hasn't your father taught you anything!" she screamed.

"Ellen, that's enough!" her husband yelled pulling her away from Dean.

The sobbing mother ran out of the room yelling for her son. He heard her move from room to room in the small cottage. When she finished she came back into Sam's bedroom.

"William, he's gone."

"Damn." Sam's father muttered. "Now Dean you wait here. Ellen and I are going to look for Sam."

"Let me come with you." Dean interjected. He was a hunter after all. He wasn't going to be left here pondering what horrible things could've happened to Sammy.

"No, we don't know what…"

"Please." Dean Winchester never begged. But he had too…this once.

Sam's father sighed and stared at him. He stared right back with an intense glare. It was though he was trying to say, "I need to save him…I should know what happened."

"Alright but stay close."

They left the house and entered the wooded area. They went back to the locked Roadhouse and searched the place over twice. They wondered through the neighboring woods for what felt like hours with no sign of Sam anywhere. Dean felt his body start to shudder telling him to sleep. He sat down to allow himself to rest briefly. He watched Sam's father hold his mother tightly. There weren't many times Dean wished for his mother. He understood she died and she wasn't coming back. Seeing Sam's parents reminded him of everything he didn't have. He wished he could be loved like Sam. It wasn't as if his father didn't love him. He did, in a different way then Sam parents, for sure. Pulled from his emo thoughts Dean started listening to their conversation.

"William. What if it's him? What if he's taken our son?" Ellen cried holding her husband tightly.

"We don't know anything right now Ellen. Let's not assume." Her husband replied.

Dean noticed the strength in his voice but also the fear in his eyes. A twig snapped behind the small search party. No one spoke a word. Dean raised his gun ready to fire wherever he could sense this person or thing was.

"Don't shoot!" a voice called out.

"Dad." Dean sighed with relief. He looked in the darkness but couldn't see him. Dean pointed his flashlight into the darkness and saw his father holding a body.

"Sam!" Ellen cried out.

The small child was unconscious and limp in his father's arms. His face was bruised and covered with tiny cuts.

"John. Give me to me." Sam's father ordered.

Dean watched his father hand over the child and Ellen immediately start checking over Sammy.

"What happened to him?" Ellen demanded. Dean watched her search his body for wounds and there appeared to be nothing but cuts and bruises.

"It was a Shtriga." His father answered calmly. "I've been hunting it for a couple of days, a few towns over."

"You brought that monster on our town!" Ellen screamed.

It all made sense to Dean now. Shtriga's feed off the young, that's why his father didn't want him on this hunt, to protect him.

"Dad…" Dean started but his father started to yell back at Ellen, "I didn't bring it. It came and I found it before it killed your son."

"Calm down you two." Sam's father said quietly.

Dean was shocked when the two obeyed.

"Thank you, John for saving my son."

Dean watched William gently brush the hair away from his Sam's eyes. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable. He noticed a small bottle in Sam's fathers' hand. Dean recognized it as smelling salts. But when he brought it to Sam's face he expected the small child to stir. But Sam didn't. Dean eyes widened as Sam's father quickly hid the salts. Dean opened his mouth to speak but his eyes met William's. Sam's father shook his head and Dean closed his mouth. Ellen and his father were still talking and Dean forced his attention to them.

"Where did you find him?" she asked forcefully.

"When the Shtriga takes children it hides them so that by the time the family finds them it too late." His father explained.

"You're point, dad?" Dean spoke up.

"Yes, John. We're all hunters here. Where did you find him?" Ellen demanded.

"The chimney of your home."

"What that's impossible. We were just there. We would have seen the creature."

"It took Sam and hid him there. When I found him the Shtriga it had just started…eating. I got Sam as fast as I could and ran."

"Oh my…" Ellen started.

"God." William finished. "Ellen…Sammy won't wake up."

Dean turned towards the father and son.

"What do you mean, Will." Ellen questioned.

"I tired the smelling salts and the awakening chant but nothing. He won't wake up."

Dean walked over to the father and son and noticed Sammy wasn't a normal color. His skin appeared a bluish tint.

"I got to him as soon as I could but it may be too late." Dean's father sighed. "I'm sorry. He's been claimed. The Shtriga won't leave him alone till he's dead."

Dean had never heard his dad say anything so final. He sounded as if there was nothing to be done.

"So what do we do now?" Dean finally asked.

William walked away with his son the question still hanging in the air. Ellen silently followed as did John. Dean watched the adults walk away.

"Wow. This sucks…a lot."

--

Thanks for reading! Please review. This chapter was written in a hurry because I am leaving on a road trip tomorrow and I wanted to get as much down as possible. Reviews help soooooo much. So FYI some of the myths about the Shtriga are going to change and not follow the show.

Awakening Chant – I figure that hunters might know some white magic and use it in a hopeless situation. The chant does exactly what it says. I don't know anything about magic soooo I named it the Awakening Chant.


	4. Sam and Dean's Past: Saving You

I Call Him Sammy

Summary: Alternative Universe. Sam and Dean are not brothers but in the world they live in they still know about the supernatural and hunters. They have a history together and maybe even a different kind of relationship. Slash: Kissing.

Sunlight marked the coming of morning. No one in the Harvelle or Winchester family had slept at all the night before. John and Will guarded William's son, Sam as he slept in a deep unwakeable sleep. As the sun rose they relaxed their hostile body posture and Will released an exhausted sigh. As long as the sun stayed up the Shtriga would not attack.

"I think I'll go check on Ellen." He announced to John. He approached his son's bed and gently stroked his cheek. He left the room without another word and entered the living room. In the small cottage living room sat Ellen and Dean. The two were surrounded by books that they had been researching through the night. Ellen was reading one intently and Dean was fast asleep leaning over a book in an awkward position.

"Ellen, anything?" he inquired quietly as he took a book out of Dean's hand and moved the sleeping teenager's head to lie back on the couch.

"No. I've called Bobby, he should be here soon." Her voice was shaking and tense. She wasn't crying but you could almost hear tears in her words. Calling Bobby Singer was a last resort for many hunters that knew him. He was a close friend to the Winchesters' and the Harvelles'. He was a very knowledgeable hunter who owned a library of books on any supernatural creature you can imagine. William said nothing to his wife's statement. He was worried but tried not to let to show on his face.

"Everything will be alright, Darling." He reassured her, "Bobby will know what to do."

Dean stirred from his sleep. He saw William Harvelle leaned over his wife holding her shoulders in his hands. Dean wanted to speak but knew better than to ruin their moment. A knock on the door broke the couple's silent moment and Dean went to go answer it. At the door Dean saw Bobby, with a stack of books in his hands and a distressed smile.

"Bobby!!"

"Hey, kid. Wanna help an old man with some books?"

Dean smiled and started helping. This whole situation seemed to be getting worse. Bobby was basically a last resort of many of his friends, Dean knew that much. He obeyed, keeping any old man retorts to himself. He carried the books inside and laid them out of the table with the others. The exhausted parents started diving into each book immediately. Dean gave a heavy sigh and picked up one book not being read. He walked into Sammy's room and saw his father asleep on the makeshift bed, Sam made the night before. Dean approached the sleeping child. He looked on Sammy's delicate features. The young hunter had already met a lot of people in his short life. Some were hunters, others were people hunted by ghosts, the families of victims, all who were suffering or scared. Sam looked peaceful and something else Dean couldn't quite put his finger on.

"Dean?"

Dean turned and saw his father staring at him. John rose and stretched. When he started speaking Dean was at attention.

"You're wondering what it is about him makes him different than the others."

Dean sighed, resigning himself to the fact that his father knew him better than anyone.

"Yes, sir. I am." He replied.

"He's innocent." John answered. "We've met many victims and half the time they've brought evil on themselves. Sam is innocent. He's done nothing to deserve dying. Believe it or not, Dean, but you will meet other people like him the more you hunt. Sometimes bad things happen to good people."

Dean listened to his father's speech, searching for any signs of emotions. Dean knew all too well that bad things happened to good people. He could still remember his mother's screams. His father handing him a baby, a child that wasn't their responsibility, a child named Sam.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean felt his cheeks burn wit embarrassment for not remembering sooner that he had met Sammy Harvelle before.

"How could you forget?" John answered with a question.

Dean had tried to forget that night for ten years ago. The night that Ellen and William, friends of his mother, had left their baby with the Winchesters so they could hunt a dangerous demon. They of course hadn't told them that. A simple vacation for wife and husband away, they told the Winchesters. Sam, the Harvelle's baby was a quiet child Dean had barely noticed him. But he recalled the child screams waking him. He listened as his mother ran across the house to check on Sam, her screaming, the fire, the horrible life altering fire. Dean held the baby outside with his father sitting beside him crying. How could he forget?

"I didn't forget, entirely." Dean mumbled.

John walked over to his son and ruffled his hair, something he knew Dean hated.

"Dean, son, could you watch over Sammy while I go talk to…"

"The adults." Dean finished with a pout painted on his face.

John smiled and pulled Dean into a bear hug. He was much too old for it but John did it anyway.

"Dad!!" the embarrassed teenager whined. Dean liked whining every once and a while and his father didn't mind. He made them more normal…whatever that was.

Dean sighed and started reading the book he took from Bobby's stack. It was all about witches. What good would that do?

_Shtriga_.

The word caught Dean by surprise. He turned the page and saw a drawing of a creature hidden in black robes. He intently started reading the printed words next to the drawing.

_Most witches gather their powers from the demons they serve and are sent to hell for the afterlife. Other witches gather power from living humans, mostly children. What the witches are looking for in their human is still unknown. All we know is that when these witches die they become Shtrigas. They feed at night by sucking the life out of their victims much like they did in life. The mainly seek out children, sometimes teenagers but rarely ever adults. _

"Who writes down this crap?" Dean cursed. He stared at the page, wondering why the author hadn't taken the time to explain how to save a victim from it. Dean stared at Sammy, his gaze falling on the kid's lips. They were rosy red and inviting. Sam's face appeared pale and drained but not those soft lips.

'Dean, dude, stop it' he scolded himself. 'He's kid. A _male_ kid.'

Dean glanced through the doorway of Sammy's bedroom. The adults sat around the pile of books, all looked angry and tired.

"Damnit!" Ellen yelled, throwing the book she was reading to the floor. "They all say the same damn thing."

"Darling…" William Harvelle started.

"Don't Darling me!" Ellen replied, with what Dean decided was a look that could kill.

Bobby coughed and inserted his thoughts, "Well, we know this Shtriga feeds off children and will be returning for Sammy, tonight. Maybe some iron rounds will do the trick."

"I agree with Bobby." John added, "We must kill this thing."

"But we don't know what effect this will have on Sammy." Will whispered.

The adults stopped reading or from what Dean could tell even breathing.

"What if we destroy the creature and Sammy doesn't wake up." He added. "I want to kill this thing, but not at the cost of my child."

Everyone agreed with silence.

"We need to wake him…" Dean found himself whispering. He looked away from the door and back towards Sammy.

_You're wondering what it is about him makes him different than the others…He's innocent._

Dean flipped the old book back to the page with the drawing of Shtriga. It loomed over its victim, in this drawing a young boy. Its face right over the helpless child's face, the Shtriga's lips about to touch its victims.

'His lips.' The thought hit him like lighting. He felt the book drop from his hands and ignored the loud thud it made against the floor. Before his father, Sam's parents or Bobby could respond to the sound, Dean leaned over the child, placing his hands on either side of Sam's head and pushed his warm lips to meet Sam's cold ones. Dean had kissed a few girls before, usually teenagers thanking him after a successful hunt. This was strange; Sam's lips were moist and soft. Dean only lingered for a few moments before he lifted his head; his lips still centimeters away from Sammy's.

Dean could hear Ellen's gasp at the doorway but did not remove himself. He just stared at Sammy's face, hoping he didn't make a complete and total ass of himself. It took him a moment to realize that Sammy's face wasn't pale anymore. Dean almost fell off the bed in shock as Sammy's eyes fluttered open and a gasp and escaped him lips.

"Dean?"

End Part Four

This chapter was really hard to write. We're almost to returning to present time. Some feedback would be GREAT! I love it.


	5. Sam and Dean's Past: Happy Endings

I Call Him Sammy

Warnings: Alternative Universe. Slash.

_Dean leaned over the child and pushed his warm lips to meet Sam's cold ones. Dean only lingered for a few moments before he lifted his head; his lips still centimeters away from Sammy's. Dean could hear Ellen's gasp at the doorway but did not remove himself. He just stared at Sammy's face. It took him a moment to realize that Sammy's face wasn't pale anymore. Dean almost fell off the bed in shock as Sammy's eyes fluttered open and a gasp and escaped him lips. _

_"Dean?" _

Sam remembered darkness. He was lost and couldn't find light. It was the most dreadful feeling. He hated the dark as it was. He felt himself slowly losing his mind. Sam closed his eyes, wishing over and over again that the darkness would go away. Suddenly, Sam felt pressure on his lips. It felt moist and warm. When Sam opened his eyes and gasped when light hit them. It hit seeing the bright sunlight and for a moment his couldn't recognize the person hovering over him, the person that had kissed him.

"Dean?" he found himself saying. His voice seemed like nothing but a whisper. The shocked boy grinned at him as he moved away from Sam's face.

Sam could barely react when Dean was pushed aside and he was pulled into a tight hug. He breathed in the air around taking in the scent of the person hugging him.

"Mom? Mom!" Sam tightened his arms around her. For a moment in that darkness he feared he'd never see her again.

Another pair of arms surrounded him and his mother.

"Sammy." He father's whispered with his face gently lying on top of Sam's head. "I thought I lost you."

"You are if you guys don't let me breathe sometime soon."

Both parents released their son and stared at him a moment before laughing. Sam only hoped the tears in his mother's eyes were that of joy.

"Dean." Sam looked around his parents but did not see the teenager anywhere. His forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Dean?"

Sam ignored his parents' requests to stay in bed and made his way to the doorway. In the Harvelle's living room Dean Winchester and his father were arguing. Bobby sat watching but didn't seem surprised that they were quibbling.

"Dean, there is nothing else we need to do." Dean's father stated.

"Father that Shtriga will come back, it doesn't know Sammy is awake."

"Will and Ellen can handle it."

"But you were hunting it-"

"What is your strange obsession with this kid?"

Sam felt a blush crept up his cheeks. Obsession? Why would Dean's father think Dean was obsessed with him? It was only a kiss. Sam's first kiss. He couldn't quite remember what it felt like, it was so short.

"Obsession? I'm just protecting him, you know from something evil like we're supposed to do!"

"That's enough, Dean. We've protected Sam before…we are done."

"But, sir—"

"We're leaving and that's final young man!"

San cringed at the harshness in John Winchesters voice. He sounded as if he knew what the reply would be. Dean would most likely croak out a, "Yes, sir."

"No, sir." Dean replied, clearly shocking his father, Bobby and himself.

Sam watched John's fist clench tightly.

"What did you say?" John closed the space between him and his son.

"No, sir." Sammy could hear the defiance laced in those two simple words.

"Dean!"

Sam couldn't stop himself from running in-between the two angry Winchesters.

"Stop it!"

Everyone was silent. Sam noticed his parents entering the room but they did not speak up.

"Look, Mr. Winchester. Please don't be angry with Dean." He pleaded. Sam opened his mouth but could not form any more words. John Winchester was almost shaking with anger. He was so tall and slightly scary. Sam forced himself to meet his eyes with John's. Sam learned at a young age, hunters respect people that can look them in the eye.

"Please, sir."

Sam almost sighed in relief as John's fist unclenched and he broke eye contact with him.

"John." Sam's father spoke up, "You and Dean are more than welcome to stay. Your help killing this thing would be appreciated by Ellen and me…and Sammy."

Sam watched John think it over. He could tell by the man's blank expression that he did not want to stay.

"Alright, Will. Dean and I will stay till this creature is dead but how do we even know the Shtriga will return." John argued.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to his father holding onto him.

"I doubt its victims are awakened much. It will most likely return." His mother reasoned.

"But it won't come in if Sam is awake." John retorted.

Sam hated the negativity in the man's voice. He seemed like such a pessimistic person.

"I could pretend to be asleep." Sam found himself inserting. He felt his father gasping his other shoulder, turning him around and bending down on his knee so he could talk face to face with him.

"Sammy, you don't understand what you're saying." He heard his father say.

Sam did understand though. He knew hunters put their lives on the line everyday to destroy evil things that hurt people. He looked at Dean. He was only four years older than Sam and he was hunting. Sam studied Dean's face, it looked blank. Sam could tell Dean was trying to show no emotion. Dean didn't want to influence Sam's decision. But Sam knew what Dean would do.

"I do, father. I want to help. This creature will only hurt more children, more families. I can't let that happen…especially if I can stop it." Sam tried to speak with his much power and determination as he could muster.

"Will, he can't…" Ellen started.

"Sam."

Sam looked into his father eyes. They were much more pleasant than John Winchesters'. They carried hope, love and pride all at once.

"Sammy. When did you become so brave?" his father smiled, a smile that said, "I love you." Sam felt a smile and blush crept up his cheeks.

"I'm n-not brave." He stuttered.

His father pulled him into a warm embrace.

"Alright, we've got work to do."

* * *

Dean curled his fingers up in anticipation as he and the other adults watched a video feed of Sammy sleeping. It was past three in the morning and still no creature. Dean felt so impatient. He couldn't believe the Harvelle kid offered himself up as bait. He was brave and maybe a bit stupid.

"So when is it showing up." Dean whispered in his smart ass tone.

"Shhh!"

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance of the "grown-ups". The hours leading up to the nighttime had been awkward. Dean and Sam sat around each other in silence, either had the courage to start a conversation. Dean knew Sam was the shy type, but after the kid stood up to his father he hoped he'd be a little more outgoing. The adults went to the bar to make up their plans and get some equipment. Sam made Dean lunch and instead of a "Thank you", he had mumbled some sort of housewife comment. He could be such a jerk sometimes. Sam had taken the insult and left the room. Dean really was the worse at starting conversations.

If Sam had been a girl and a few years older it would have been so much easier. Sammy was just a kid. Dean had to remember that. Those lips he'd kissed belong to an innocent kid.

Dean was pulled from his thoughts as he saw a shadow creep into the video frame. He opened his mouth to speak but didn't. He saw his Dad rise slowly and reach for his gun, loaded with pure iron.

Dean watched in shock as the creature that looked like a shadow slowly unlatching Sammy's window and pushing it open. He knew they needed to wait till it started feeding and realized Sammy was no longer under its spell. But Dean couldn't shake his impatient feelings. He wanted his creature dead. He watched the shadow descend down on Sammy, its lips about to touch his. He looked to his father but he wasn't moving.

"Dad?" Dean whispered with almost a frantic tone.

This time when Dean looked to him his father was holding out the gun, to him.

"Dean." He replied.

Dean didn't hesitant to snatch the gun for his father's hand. He was shocked Ellen and Will hadn't busted into the room themselves. Without a word Dean entered the room and yelled, "Sam get down" before he fired. The Shtriga flew backwards into the wall. Dean looked around the room and didn't see Sam anywhere.

"Sammy!" Dean screamed. He heard Ellen and Will enter and fire at the Shtriga. It didn't move so Dean knew it was dead.

"Dean?"

Dean turned around at the sound of Sammy's voice but didn't see him.

"Dean."

Dean looked back at the bed and bend down on his knees. He tinted his head until he could see under the bed. Sam was lying on his stomach and his hands over his ears. He moved his hands and his eyes met Dean's.

"Is it dead?" Sam asked him. His eyes were wide but hopeful.

"Yes, Sammy. It's dead."

Dean reached out his hand and started to pull Sam out from under the bed. He stopped when their faces were so close they were almost touching.

"Umm, I guess I don't have to be afraid of what's under the bed anymore." Sam murmured with a blush on his cheeks.

Dean chuckled and continued helping Sam out from under the bed. He looked towards Mr. and Mrs. Harvelle both with grins on their faces.

"Good job, Dean." Will smiled, patting Dean's head. "You saved my boy. I owe you."

"Will, let's give the boys a moment. John will want to leave soon." Ellen told her husband.

The couple left and closed the door behind him. Dean glanced at Sam's still blushing face.

"Thank you." Sam spoke again.

"Your welcome." Dean responded. Wow, he felt really uncool at this moment. "Ummm, my dad's gonna get impatient. I've held him up a day, I'm sure he's mad at me…." Dean heard himself rambling.

"When I woke up, I wasn't sure how you did it. I could remember the pressure against my lips. I can only assume you kissed me."

Dean felt himself swallow as Sam moved closer to him.

"I can't really remember what it felt like. To be kissed…I mean." Sam explained. "And it was my first."

Dean couldn't stand the chatter. He pulled Sam to him, forcing him lips on Sam's soft ones. He heard a small squeak of surprise but continued kissing him firmly.

He kept it as chaste as possible. He pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. He wanted to badly but he reminded himself that Sam was just a kid.

"You'll remember that, right?" Dean found himself murmuring.

Sam nodded. Dean stared into Sam's eyes, they looked so beautiful and honest.

"You won't forget me, will you?" Dean was silently cursing himself for creating such a chick flick moment.

"No, Dean. You saved my life. And…I'll never forget you."

Dean noted conflict in Sam's eyes. There was so much he could tell Sam wanted to ask, most likely about his father and his life. Dean felt shocked as Sam hands wrapped around his neck. The little squirt looked into his eyes.

"Dean."

Sam's lips met his once more and this time Sam took control. Dean felt his face flush as the kiss continued. They jumped apart when the door to Sam's room opened.

"Dean, it's time to go!" his father yelled. Dean never felt angry towards his father for barking orders at him till this moment.

"Yes, sir."

Dean looked at Sammy, he was breathing heavily and his face was flushed.

"Goodbye, Sammy."

"Goodbye, Dean."

Dean turned away and followed his Dad without question. He refused to look back at Sammy's longing face. When they reached the Impala he smiled at his dad's beautiful car. He ran his hands along the side of the car before opening the passenger door. Strangely, her beauty seemed somewhat diminished to Dean especially after kissing Sammy Harvelle.

Author's Notes: Thank you so much for the reviews!! I can't emphasis enough how they help me write. My goal is to get at least 5 or 6 a chapter. A big goal!! None of these chapters have been beta'ed. I tried very hard to write a longer chapter. Hope you all enjoy.


	6. Sam and His Nickname

I Call Him Sammy

Warnings: Alternative Universe. Slash.

"_Dean."_

Sam could feel himself walking towards the door of the Roadhouse slowly and deliberately. He'd just throw Dean Winchester out, someone he thought he'd never see again. He found himself not caring at the stares he was receiving as exited. He saw Dean leaning up against the hood of a '67 Impala, waiting. It almost worried Sam that Dean knew he would come out to see him.

"Sammy Harvelle." Dean looked up at him with probably the sexiest grin Sam had ever seen on a man. Dean rose off the hood and gently gave his car a gentle pat.

"It's Sam." Sam replied, almost feeling like an idiot for not coming up with a better retort. Fact was no one called him Sammy. His dad had called him nothing else. Since he died no one used his nickname.

"It's been a while Sammy." He grinned.

Sam felt himself cringe at the usage of Sammy. He scoffed and replied. , "Awhile? Dean, it's been ten years since I've seen you. Twelve since…" …_ I kissed you_, Sam left that part unspoken.

"Why the hell are you here?" Sam finished; completely shocked he said precisely what he was thinking. He wasn't that type of guy. He was the sugarcoating type not the aggressive type.

"Look, Sam." Dean started. "I'm not here because I particularly want to be. I'm here because I need your mom's help."

"My mom's help?" Sam asked trying to mask the concern in his voice.

"No offense, Sammy but—"

"_With what_?" Sam asked with more force. He watched Dean step forward with slight confusion on his face. His confusion melted away and a grin appeared which was unsettling to Sam. Dean was shorter than Sam by an inch or two. Sam felt his breath get stolen as Dean leaned up against him and brought his head to Sam's ear.

"I like it when you get forceful Sammy."

Sam wanted to be intimidating but couldn't stop his face from turning a dark pink as he stepped back from Dean, nearly tripping.

Dean chuckled, it was dark almost scary. For a moment it sent fear and doubt into Sam's thoughts. Although he felt a connection to Dean, the truth was he was a complete stranger. He didn't know what Dean had been though, what his father put him though, or even if he was a good person. He remembered shy Dean who was so sweet to him. Truth was all he knew was that Dean had been his first kiss and had saved his life. And strangely that was enough for Sam. But for some reason, Dean seemed like his was trying to frighten him and he wasn't going to let him.

"Dean-" Sam started.

Dean placed his two of his fingers on Sam's lips, carefully and slowly tracing them. Whatever control Sam had hoped to take of the situation was lost.

"Still soft." Dean whispered.

After what seemed like an eternity Dean's fingers left Sam's lips and he stepped back.

"So you want to know why I need your mom's help." His voice seemed smooth and gentle. His hands retreated to his pockets and he leaned up against his Impala.

"Yes." Sam replied, silently hoping Dean was done playing mind games with him.

"I need Ash to look over something for me."

Sam gave a disappointed sigh. He let himself hope for a moment that Dean hadn't come for a job, well not just a job. Fact was he needed Ash, the Harvells' resident pain in the ass/analytical genius. Many hunters needed Ash's help but the Winchesters didn't seem the type to come for help…from anyone.

"Well, Ash may be a jackass but he respects my mom completely. He won't look over anything you've got after that scene back there." Sam explained. Guilt hit him square in the stomach as he watched defeat slip into Dean's frown. Dean quickly picked his carefree mask back up.

"Well then I guess this is goodbye Sammy."

As Dean reached his car door and started opening the door, Sam couldn't stop himself from uttering, "Maybe I can help."

Dean stopped in his tracks but did not look Sam in the eye.

"How?" he simply asked.

"Since I came back from college, Ash has been teaching me how he does…what he does. I'm definitely not like him but I can help." Sam offered, he couldn't stop his whole body was tensing up waiting for Dean to reply.

"Alright."

Sam didn't let his confusion show as Dean jumped into his car and started rummaging through the pile of stuff in the back of the Impala. Dean grunted and randomly cursed until finally a muffed "A AH!" escaped his lips.

Sam looked curiously at the journal Dean presented him. It was leather bound and worn. Sam opened it careful fearing pages would start to fall out. He started looking through some of them, mostly the few pages that were already torn out.

"Impossible." Sam whispered as he identified the markings on the page. He looked to Dean, allowing all his confusion to be written on his face, "No human can track a demon like this."

"My dad can." Dean gave Sam a smug smile.

"Your dad?" Sam said with disbelief. The few memories had of John Winchester weren't very complementary. He was a monster, at least Sam thought so. The way he had treated Dean and yelled at him was frightening. Sam wondered if John treated him like that all his life. He suddenly felt the urge to close the book and keep its secrets…secret. But he didn't.

"So you think you can help me?" Dean inquired.

"Sure but I don't understand what you expect me to find." Sam said still flipping through its pages.

"Just give it a look over. I'll come back..soon. Thanks Sammy." Dean said walking back over to his car.

"Wait! Why the hell are you leaving?" Sam screamed. He was angry that he didn't know what was going on. Why did Dean have his father's journal and not his father? How could Dean walk into his life and then walk right back out?

"Not very bright are you, Sammy." Dean rolled his eyes. He left the drivers' door open and stood, clearly impatiently.

"Why give this me? Are you too scared to ask your father what it all means?" he shouted his entire question without hesitation.

"I'd ask him if I knew where he was."

Sam felt an embarrassed flush hit his cheeks. He just made himself look like an idiot and got Dean to admit something he clearly didn't want to. He heard Dean make a frustrated groan before leaving the car door and walking back over to Sam.

"Look Sam. That's the truth. My dad's been missing for quite some time and there could be some answers in that book."

Sam often prided himself on being able to see the truth in people's eyes. Dean's eyes were so honest it hurt.

"And I have something that needs to be hunted. I can't search for my dad and hunt at the same time. So are you going to help me or not?"

Dean's voice didn't sound obnoxiously cocky like it did before. He sounded normal.

"Yes." Sam sighed.

When he looked back at Dean, the older man was almost on top of him. Sam could barely react when Dean slipped his hand around Sam's neck and pulled him into a searing kiss. Sam hadn't kissed anyone in such a long time. He moaned when Dean traced his lips with his tongue. Sam opened his mouth wanting Dean to finish where they'd left off all those years ago.

Dean pulled away without a word leaving Sam growling in frustration.

Sam started to speak, he wanted to curse or yell…something but Dean interrupted.

"You still taste the same." He grinned.

Sam simply rolled his eyes. Although, Dean had pulled away from the kiss they we're still standing nose to nose.

"You're a jerk, you know that." Sam muttered still breathless from the kiss although he'd never admit that.

"And you're defiantly a bitch…I wasn't going to say anything but…"

This man was intoxicating Sam thought silently as Dean mumbled on. His eyes, a piercing green. His face lined with stubble that had made Sam's face itch ever so slightly. Sam stole a quick glance at his chest covered by a tight t-shirt. What he saw made him smile, a sad smile. Dean was wearing a necklace. More specifically an amulet, the same amulet Sam had given him ten years ago. That had been the last time Sam had seen the Dean Winchester till now. A night he couldn't forget.

_Twelve year old Sammy tapped on the bar impatiently waiting for his father's return. From all the gossip he'd gathered from around the place, his father had gone hunting with another hunter, very rare since his father preferred to work _

_alone. But the rumor was his father was hunting with John and Dean Winchester. He hoped he would get to see Dean. He thought about him sometimes when he was taking a break or lying in bed. He thought about him at times like this when there was nothing else to do but worry about his father. Sam nearly fell off the barstool as John and Dean Winchester entered. He was slightly confused when he father didn't walk in and John and Dean walked up to him._

_"Where's your mother, Sam?" John asked. _

_"The house." Sam replied without a thought. John walked away leaving the two boys together. Dean had grown but so had Sam. He didn't feel like a kid next to him this time even though Dean had to be almost 16. _

"_Hi Dean." He smiled sweetly._

"_Hey, Sammy." Dean smiled back, but he looked like he was about to fall down._

"_Um, would you like to sit? I can get you something to drink." Sam motioned him to sit next to him and Dean reluctantly did. _

"_I'm not thirsty." Dean replied. _

_Sam frowned at Dean's response. He hoped when they met again things would be less awkward. Sam had a thousand questions about the hunt, his father but he didn't ask one. He sat there staring at Dean who looked so sad and tired. _

"_I…Bobby gave me something after the whole Shtriga incident." Sam started._

_He sighed in relief as Dean looked to him and appeared interested. Sam placed his hand on an amulet he was wearing. Without a word slipped the necklace off._

"_I think you should have it." He finished. _

"_Sammy…" Dean started. _

_Sam smiled. Only his dad and Dean called him Sammy. He liked how it sounded when Dean said it._

"_Bobby said it gave protection. I….I'm not a hunter like you. I mean, dad and I train and all that but you…you're out there and in danger and…you saved my life and…" Sam felt himself blushing at his own ramblings, "and I think you should have it." _

_Sam felt the warmth from Dean's smile as he looked at the amulet in Sam's hand. _

"_Well, are you going to put it on me?" Dean said with a smart ass smirk. He slipped off the bar stool. With Sam on the tall stool and Dean standing they were about the same height. _

_Sam slipped the necklace around Dean's neck and let his hands rest there for a moment. He started to pull away when Dean captured his hand in his._

"_Thank you, Sammy." _

_Sam wished he could stop blushing. He probably looked like a tomato. _

"_I mean it. No one's given me a gift like this before." Dean sighed. "I wish I had something to give you."_

"_You're here." Sam whispered. "That's enough." _

_Their faces were only inches apart; both seemed content with just looking at the other. A silent understanding of one another. Sam wanted to find the courage to lean in. But he didn't get the chance. _

_The front door to the roadhouse slammed open. His mother came running in with John right behind her._

"_Ellen, please…" _

_His mother turned around to face John and slapped him. The clack sent silence throughout the room. The six or seven people in the bar all turned their eyes to his mother and John. Sam felt himself jump off the barstool and slowly approach his mother. _

"_John Winchester." His mother started in a low angry voice. "I don't ever want to see your face around here…ever again, you hear me?"_

"_Ellen…" John started. _

_Sam cringed at the way John Winchester said his mother's name. He sounded so angry. _

"_Now get out." His mother ordered. _

_John didn't move and Dean came and stood behind his father. _

_Sam had always made his dad proud by being the man of the house while he was away. Sam also knew if John couldn't come back, Dean couldn't either. But his mother sobs helped him decide what action to take._

"_Mr. Winchester." Sam said calmly with his mother behind him, crying freely. "Please respect my mother's wishes and leave." _

_John left but not quietly, he left a long line of curse words behind him. He was very upset, why Sam still didn't know. Sam was about it say something to Dean as he walked away but he felt his mother's hand on his shoulder._

"_Sam."_

_He looked at his mother. He'd never seen her so devastated, except for the time Dad got hurt and was in the hospital._

_Dad. _

"_Mom, what's wrong?" found himself saying, "Dad's hurt isn't he?"_

_Tears started forming in Sam eyes. He found himself not caring the Dean Winchester was walking out the door and out of his life. He just needed to know that his father was alright._

"_Mom?" Sam felt himself begging._

"_Sam. Your father's dead." _

"Sam!"

Sam looked to Dean but was shocked to see the hunter was already backing up and walking toward his car door.

"Wow, you're strange." Dean muttered. "Anyway, I'll be back when I finish this hunt."

"I promise." Dean added with a bit of sarcasm.

Sam watched him climb into his car and saw Dean sigh with a smile on his face. Dean sure did love his car.

"Wait!" Sam found himself yelling. Damn, he really needed some self control around Dean.

Dean rolled down the window, annoyance written all over his face, "Yes, princess?"

Sam wanted to roll his eyes but contained himself.

"What if I need to contact you?"

Dean sat for a moment, he appeared to be thinking. Sam wondered if he did that often.

Dean muttered something before searching his inside coat pockets. Much to Sam's surprise he pulled out a sharpie.

"So when you say you want a way to contact me you mean 'Dean, you're such a hottie, I want your number' right?"

Sam wanted to kiss…err…slap that smug look right off Dean's face. He felt violated when Dean grabbed his hand and started writing on it…in SHARPIE! He seemed to take his time, holding onto Sam's hand a little longer than planned.

"Jerk!" Sam exclaimed when Dean finally let go of his hand.

When their eyes met Sam wished he could hide the blush on his cheeks.

"You're still a bitch."

With that the car revved up and Dean sped off before Sam could get another insult in. Sam stood there, still shocked at the turn of events. Dean was back in his life and was going to stay as long as Sam had this journal. Sam looked at the journal in his right hand and the sharpie written number on his left. That Dean Winchester was trouble. Sam felt himself grinning like an idiot. He liked trouble.

end part six

This part of the story ends here. There will be a sequel.


	7. Sam and The Hunter

I Call Him Sammy

Author's Notes:

Last Chapter of **I Call Him Sammy**, it's sequel will be called **We Hunt Demons **(Coming Soon).

Dean sang softly to himself as he pulled his car into the Roadhouse's dirt parking lot. Dean found himself singing more often on this hunting trip than any other he could remember. The trip had taken much longer than he had anticipated. It had been two long weeks since he left his father's journal in Sammy Harvelle's capable hands.

They'd talked on the phone, sent some text messages but never about anything serious. Dean mainly called for information about his hunt, information that he'd didn't really need. The truth was he enjoyed talking to Sam. The two were similar. Dean could tell him anything about his hunt and Sam would listen. Sam believed him because Sam knew what was in the dark.

He also loved teasing Sam too. He could still remember that beautiful blush on Sammy's face the night he left. And as long as Sam had the diary they had something to talk about, to connect them.

Believe it or not, Dean Winchester was shy. For some reason flirting with scantily dressed women or drop dead gorgeous chicks wasn't a problem for him. He didn't flirt with guys so he'd never had a problem. Sammy messed all that up. Dean couldn't stop himself from kissing Sam senseless that night two weeks ago. Dean didn't even like guys yet Sam invaded all his thoughts and sometimes his dreams.

His father would be ashamed of his more losing control over his emotions but Dean figured since his Dad wasn't around, who cared. But the fact that his Dad wasn't around to scold him made Dean sadder than even he could have imagined. But couldn't help feeling slightly relived at the same time mainly because he got to make his own choices and mistakes when on a hunt.

It was the dark morning hours on a Tuesday and there were no other cars parked in the parking lot. That would have struck Dean as odd but he noticed the closed sign on the door. He shrugged and turned off his baby. He broke into the Roadhouse quite easily. It was dark inside so Dean moved slowly.

When he heard and saw no one he turned around and figured he'd try the house. That was until someone grabbed him from behind. Immediately, Dean elbowed his attacker in the chest and pushed them to the ground using his body weight.

He looked at the person below him who was obviously a male. His head was to the side if he was unconscious Dean couldn't be 100 sure. Dean placed his hand on the guys chin and pulled his face towards him.

"Sam?"

Dean almost laughed Sam started to come to. Before Dean could get a smart ass comment out, Sam grabbed Dean shoulders and rolled the two of them around so he was on top. Dean figured the kid had come to and still didn't know it was him. So he laid there under Sammy till put two and two together.

"Dean?"

The half confusion, half flushed embarrassment was written all over Sam's face. It was cute, Dean knew that for sure.

Finally Dean broke the awkward silence something, "Sammy, if you wanted to be on top all you had to do was ask."

He listened to Sam groan in annoyance as he got off the floor and offered Dean a hand up.

"Dean, you scared the crap out of me." He whined.

"Aw, I'm sorry babe." Dean continued to smirk knowing full well Sam's face most probably bordering on dark red.

"Can he get some lights in here?" Dean muttered.

Sam grunted and walked to the door switching on the light system. He let himself look confused as Sam filched under the lighting.

"That's better."

Dean took a moment to look at Sam. He looked different than when Dean left. He was the same except the fact that he looked like he made slept in a few days. But Dean noticed something in his eyes had changed drastically.

"Sam, you look like hell." Dean said in a twisted attempt to see what was wrong.

"Ha, Ha." Sam rolled his eyes at Dean and for some reason the comforted him. Sam made his way to the bar. "What a drink?" he asked not only sounding slurred but using the wrong words. "_Want_ a drink?" Sam quickly corrected.

"Sure, why not?" Dean replied. He took the beer Sam offered him and didn't bother to ask or look at what it was. His eyes were on Sam. The eerie silence surrounding him was getting unsettling.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean finally asked deciding the more hands on approached was needed.

"Nothing, Dean. Really, it's nothing." Sam muttered before basically chugging his beer.

"Yeah, it really seems like nothing." Dean shot back.

"You wouldn't understand." Sam sighed.

"I've been told I've quite understanding by very many women around the United States of America and-"

"Just SHUT UP!" Sam screamed throwing his beer bottle across the room, "You have no idea how fucked up you father is, do you?"

Dean did not move a muscle. He'd punched men in the face for saying less about his father. His hero. He watched as Sam pulled out his father's journal and threw it at him sending pieces of papers flying.

"Take it back." Sam muttered as he started slumping and fell behind the bar. "Take it back…" Normal Dean would have grabbed the journal and left the idiot behind the bar in their drunken state. But it wasn't some idiot, it was Sam. He walked around the bar and saw Sam sprawled out on the ground. There were at least six or seven empty beer bottles at his feet. Well, that explained a lot and nothing. Sam was drunk but why?

"Hey, Sammy." Dean started, shaking the semi conscious giant. "We need to get you into bed." He explained.

Dean smiled and Sam looked at him with a goofy looking grin painted on his face. The kid was the _strangest_ drunk Dean had ever met.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" he slurred.

Dean couldn't stop himself from laughing. "Come on, Sammy. My intentions are honorable, I promise."

Sam giggled before hiccupping. "Sorry," he murmured. "I d-don't usually get…this smashed."

"I can tell."

Dean wrapped Sam's arm around his shoulder and forced him to stand up.

"Now, where can I take you to lie down?" Dean inquired.

"Guest room…down that hall."

Dean watched Sam point to the wall and decided he meant the hall beside that wall. Dean slowly and carefully helped Sam move into the empty room. He lowered him onto the bed and sat next to him. As soon as Sam hit the bed he was asleep, Dean could tell by the soft snoring coming from him.

"Hell, Sammy. What did you read in that journal that screwed you up?" Dean whispered, as he brushed the hair out of Sam's face. "I guess I have to wait till morning to find out." Sam groaned as Dean pushed him over till there was a small space for him. Dean laid himself down and sighed heavily. Sam Harvelle was way too much trouble. That's the last thought he had before he felt arms surround and hold him like he was a teddy bear.

"Great." He muttered. The position wasn't as awkward as he thought it would be. So he decided it was better just to go to sleep and worry about it in the morning.--

* * *

The first thing Sam thought when he awoke the next morning was, 'Damn, my head hurts.' His second thought was confusion as he realized he was in the guest room of the Roadhouse. Then it hit him, the journal, the beer, and Dean. Oh, how he wanted to roll over and disappear after what he remembered from last night.

"Good morning, princess!" he heard Dean's chipper voice yell from the room next door. He watched the hunter walk in with a tray of food. "I made you breakfast, sweetie."

"You what?" Sam found himself answering in disbelief.

"Actually, you mother found out I was here, put a gun to head, and after some long negotiations decided to let me live my pathetic life _and_ forced me to bring you breakfast." Dean smiled at him. "Orange juice?"

Sam tried to return a smile but could only concentrate on the throbbing of his head. He had to apologize now before Dean thought he was a total and complete jerk.

"Dean, I'm so sorry about—"

"Sam."

Sam shut his mouth and looked at Dean ready for him to be angry. Dean set the tray down on the nightstand next to him. He half expected Dean to slap or punch him for what he said about his father last night. Sam didn't let his eyes meet Dean's. Sam filched when he felt Dean's hand on his chin. Dean forced him to meet his eyes.

"Sam, I'm not angry with you." Dean finally said.

Sam could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He could be such a girl sometimes. Well, and he was having a killer hangover. Dean removed his hand and looked away.

"So…breakfast?"

Sam looked at his mother's cooking that usually made him smile with delight and felt his stomach churn. He pushed him way passed Dean to the small bathroom to throw up.

"I knew you were a lightweight!" He heard Dean yell at. Sam was starting to hate that smart ass.

But what Sam really hated was throwing up, it was tiring and embarrassing. He felt his body slipping to the floor. When he finished he just sat there. Wow, he had probably just freaked Dean out and he was never coming back. The last two weeks he had been waiting for Dean to come back and he picked last night to get smashed.

"Ugh." He groaned in frustration.

Sam felt his body tense up as a hand was placed on his back.

"Here, Sammy. Drink this."

Sam looked at Dean and the orange juice in Dean's hand. He really didn't want to drink it especially when the taste of vomit was still in his mouth. But he relented and started drinking the juice slowly. He started suddenly and looked to Dean.

"This isn't orange juice."

Dean smiled not looking at least bit guilty for lying to Sam.

"No, it's my homemade cure for hangovers." Dean explained.

Sam's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the tastes, "There's alcohol in it!"

"Just enough to settle your stomach." Dean explained.

"Dean!"

Dean rolled his eyes and flushed the toilet.

"Let's get out of here." He muttered as he helped Sam to his feet. "Feel better?"

"Tons." Sam sarcastically replied drinking the rest of the "orange juice".

Sam didn't question Dean as he led him into the bar. When Sam finally assured Dean he wasn't going to fall out of his chair they started to talk.

"Now, Sammy. What did you read in my father's journal?"

"Things." Sam felt himself muttering. He glanced at the journal, still on the bar from last night. He could feel Dean waiting for him to continue.

"He faced things that no one should have to face." Sam finished.

Sam looked at Dean, who was wearing no emotions unlike Sam who felt like he could cry at any moment.

"Most of the information is clear cut but some of it is heavily coded." Sam started. "The beginning of the book was simple to decode. I-I…"

Sam cursed himself for letting tears come to his eyes.

"It's my fault your mother died." He felt himself whisper.

Sam heard Dean get up but couldn't look at him. Dean was pacing around the room.

"Sam." Dean finally started. "It's not your fault."

Sam looked at Dean in disbelief. "How can you say that?" he inquired, "The demon was after me because my parents were after it. Your family was innocent. You could have led a normal life with your mother if it wasn't for me. It killed your mother to get to me." Sam felt knew his voiced was almost a choked sob, "I-I...I'm sorry."

Sam expected Dean to say something as he sat there in tears. He started to feel scared that Dean did hate him.

"Sam, I'm only going to say this once. It's not your fault." Dean started, "And there's nothing either of us can do about it now."

Sam felt Dean's hand on his knee. "Ok?"

Sam looked into Dean's understanding eyes. They were so similar. They had both lost parents to the same demon. They had been raised with a fear most people will never know. Sam simply nodded.

"Good." Dean removed his hand, "Now, from what you read in the journal can you give me a location where my father may be?"

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and turned his chair towards the bar. He opened the journal and pointed to the bottom corner of one the pages.

Dean leaned over his body so close to Sam's and read it out loud.

"Dean, 33-111. Coordinates?" Dean's voice sounded excited and anxious.

"Yes, but Dean—"

"Thanks, Sammy. I'm going—"

"Dean…" Sam tried to interject. Dean was halfway to the door when Sam shouted, "He's not there, Dean!"

Dean stopped in his tracks, but didn't respond.

"I did some research on the place. He's not there."

"Sam, you don't understand." Dean walked back over to him and pointed to the coordinates. "If that's where he needs me to go then that's where I'm going."

"Exactly." Sam felt himself sounding angry. John Winchester had trained a soldier. Sam read all about it in his journal. From the time Dean was old enough pack a punch he was trained to obey. Sam found himself hating John Winchester just a bit more. "He knows you'll go there. But he isn't there."

"Well then where the hell is he?" Dean slammed his hand on the bar.

Sam felt sorry for him. He couldn't imagine the childhood Dean had had. Sam may have lost his father when he was young but the years he was alive were filled with so much joy.

"Dean. I don't think he wants you to find him." Sam finally dared to finish. Sam gasped as Dean grabbed him by his shirt and threw him against the bar.

"You don't know him like me…"

"Dean, trust me." Sam found himself whimpering. Dean released him and Sam cringed a bit as he felt a pain where his back and the bar had connected.

"He wants you to hunt. That's why he left you the journal. It has everything you need to know that you may not already." He explained.

"This is crap." He heard Dean mutter. "Dad, you…"

Sam took the moment to insert, "You need to go hunting and I'm coming with you."

Dean looked at Sam and they stood there silently. Sam gave him a gentle smile that Dean returned. When he broke out in laughter Sam's smile quickly became a frown.

"Sammy, you hunting?"

"Hey," Sam frowned, "I've hunted before."

"Really?" Dean asked with a half shocked, half amused look on his face.

"Yeah, the night my dad died Mom stopped."

Dean's smiled quickly disappear at the mention of Sam's father.

"When I got back from college it was going to take more than bartending to keep me here." Sam continued pretending not to notice Dean's reaction to his father. "So I took on hunts near home. People came to my mother for help and she wouldn't so I did."

Dean stood there silently; Sam wasn't quite sure what he was thinking.

"Look, I'm smart. I've read this journal backwards and forwards except the coded stuff. I can help."

"Ellen, would kill me if I—"

"You're scared of my mom." Sam choked out. He started to laugh but stopped when he realized Dean didn't find it so funny.

"She can be scary." Sam added. He looked at Dean, he looked so worn out. "Dean, I can help you. If I get in the way you can just dump me right back here."

"Fine."

Sam smiled, "Really?"

"Yeah, stop smiling like I just brought Christmas early." Dean snapped.

Sam continued smiling knowing Dean wasn't really angry.

"So we have a lot of work to do." Sam stated. "I'd better go talk to my mom." Sam said with a slightly ashamed blush on his cheeks.

He followed Dean out of the Roadhouse and looked towards the Harvelle's small home.

"No need."

Sam looked at Dean who opened his trunk where a duffel bag sat on top a flap that probably held weapons. Sam's dad had had a similar system. Sam started at the bag a moment before realizing it was his bag. The bag he always left packed in case he needed to leave for a hunt.

"I already talked to your mother." Dean explained, shutting the trunk. "Man, Sam, you're so slow."

Sam smiled as Dean hopped into his beautiful Impala. Dean Winchester was so full of surprises. Sam started towards the passenger door. As he opened it he stopped and looked back at the Roadhouse. He knew he'd see it again.

Then he took a moment to look back at the house. His mother stood on the porch when she got there he wasn't sure. He remembered when he father left on a hunt, they never hugged goodbye. His mother and him would stand on the porch and wave goodbye. They always save the hug till he was home. Sam smiled at his mother and she tried to he could tell. Even from that distance Sam could tell she was upset.

"Hey princess, we haven't got all day. We got some ghostbusting to do!" he heard Dean shout.

Sam waved to his mother like he had seen his father do so many times. He got in the Impala and he looked at Dean as he turned on the car and started driving.

'I can help, mom.' He thought to himself as he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, 'I'm a hunter.'

Sam smiled; a nice quiet drive was what he needed after that horrible hangover.

Suddenly, the loud sounds of ACDC thumped and Dean's voice yelling, "Going down, party time, my friends are gonna be there too!"

Sam groaned. This was going to be a long car ride.

"I'm on a highway to hell!"

A really, really long car ride.

_fine _


End file.
